Wrapped in These Arms
by DoctorSherlockLove
Summary: For the war. The topic is fluff. It's their two-year anniversary and sherlock surprises John. John's answer is yes.


This week in the war is fluff. I hope you enjoy this! I dedicate this story to my war buddy, BrokenHazelEyes. She's my Steven Moffat. You should totally check her out!

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John had just gotten home from a long shift and needed a nice quiet night. Of course, that would be difficult to come by due to his restless flatmate. As soon as he was through the door, he placed his snow covered coat on the hook. Getting the cold layer off felt good. He was halfway up the stairs when he realised it was way too quiet for the consulting detective without a case. John worried that he would find more bullet holes in the wall, or worse. When he reached the door at the top of the stairs, he slowly pushed it open.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

The flat was spotless. The curtains were drawn shut and darkness fell. The fireplace was lit and glowing softly, along with some candles placed around the room. As John walked around, looking for his tall, pale boyfriend, he noticed the aroma drifting in from the kitchen. It smelled divine and it made his mouth water. The table was covered in a red tablecloth, obviously from Mrs. Hudson. Set out on the table was a bottle of red wine and a beautiful Italian dinner for two.

A pair of long, lanky arms wrapped around his waist from behind. John leaned back and felt a kiss pressed to the nape of his neck. His eyes closed and he wished he could stay there forever. Being wrapped in those arms made him feel safe. Turning around, John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck.

"Hello." His deep, baritone voice cut through the silence. It made his heart flutter every time.

"Hey." John stood up on his toes and met his boyfriend's lips. The perfect bowed ones were warm against his freezing ones.

Sherlock pulled away. "Shorty." He smirked.

"Oh, shut up." John chuckled and dragged him over to the kitchen.

On the table there was a basket of bread and two plates of spaghetti. Sherlock sat down and poured the wine into the two glasses. There was a sweet smell in the air, but John couldn't place it. He took his seat across the detective and put his hands in his lap. John loved their relationship. It wasn't stressful or tiring. It was true and exciting. Today was their two-year anniversary. He figured Sherlock wouldn't remember but looking at the dinner in front of him, John guessed he was wrong.

"This looks lovely. Delicious too." John loved Italian food. And it was his favourite meal from Angelo's. He twirled his fork in the pasta and brought it to his mouth.

Sherlock smiled. "I'm glad you like it. It is a special day today after all." He pulled out a bag from under his seat. "I got you something."

John froze. He completely forgot to get him something. He didn't think Sherlock would want a gift. Just knowing he had gotten him a present made a smile creep onto his face. Before he knew it he was bouncing slightly in his chair.

He pulled out the tissue and a read the card inside.

_John_

_You have saved me. You were there when no one else was. When everyone called me a freak, you said I was brilliant. I'm happy to have you as a flatmate, a best friend, and a boyfriend. You are a huge part of my life. I know this may not be a good thing to say, but if you weren't shot in Afghanistan, I probably would have never met you. So I'm glad. Oh so glad that you limped in here and changed my life around._

_I love you, John and I always will. Nothing will change that._

_-Sherlock_

Tears were running down his face. John looked up into Sherlock's eyes. Love was behind them. "I love you so much," he smiled and leaned across the table, placing a small kiss on his lips. He sat back down and reached inside the bag.

It was a scarf.

He noticed a small glint on one of the ends. There was gold embroidery of the letters J.H.W.H. "What is the extra H at the end?" John looked up with confusion. He knew the first three were his initials, but he had a feeling of what the second H could mean.

"Well it depends on how you answer this question." Sherlock stood up and walked over to the other side of the table. He slowly lowered himself down to one knee and reached into his pocket. There was now a ring between his fingers.

John's heart was racing and he could hear blood pumping in his ears. He couldn't believe what was happening. The Sherlock Holmes was down on one knee, in front of him, no less.

"John Watson. My blogger and lover. Will you make me the happiest person on the planet?" Fear was thinly hidden behind those glassy orbs. John could see him shaking a little. He rarely saw Sherlock showing any sort of fear. He was always strong and confident.

He stood up and took his boyfriend's hands in his own. John pulled Sherlock up on his feet and reached up to cup his cheek. "Of course. Yes." He could feel his fiancé's body relax. Sherlock swooped down and met him in a deep kiss. It was filled with passion and long lasting love.

Sherlock walked over to the oven, consequentially separating their intertwined bodies. John now knew the sweet smell from earlier. There was now a small double fudge cake on the table. His fiancé was cutting it when John went to sit in front of the fireplace. A plate was placed in his lap and was followed by Sherlock sitting behind him. He was pulled into his lap.

John put cake on his fork and took a small bite. It was so rich and moist. He reached back and gave a small piece to Sherlock. The way his lips formed around the fork, it was beautiful. The two lanky arms were soon around him again.

John couldn't wait to be in those arms for the rest of his and Sherlock's life.

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Stay tuned for next Saturday when the war continues.


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